Page 103 of Tempting as Sin
It was a long time. The shaking kept going, and the smell, and the breath, and the barking, and then the shaking stopped. Chuck was still barking, but farther away, and everybody was really still.
Somebody moved. Lily, because she said in a scared voice, “It’s gone. We have to get out of here. Rafe. Are you OK? Oh, God.Rafe.”
She was moving, getting off of Bailey, but something was still on top of her. Rafe. Now, he moved, too, and Bailey wiggled away and got to her knees.
Rafe was bloody. His arm, and his hand. His long-sleeved shirt was ripped up the whole sleeve, and there was red blood all over it, dripping into the grass. Lily was bloody, too, but it was mostly just her hand.
Bailey still didn’t say anything. Chuck came running back, not barking anymore, and went over to Rafe. He started licking his hand, dancing around and whining like he was nervous.
“Back to the trail,” Lily said. “We’ll get farther down, and then we’ll work on your arm, Rafe. We have to get out of herenow,though, in case it comes back.”
Rafe shook his head like he was trying to get water out of his ears and said, “Yeah. Come on.” He took Bailey’s hand, but his hand was wet. It was bloody, too, even though it wasn’t the one with his hurt arm. He was pulling Bailey anyway, almost running back to the trail, and pushing Lily ahead of them. Chuck was behind them, Bailey thought. She couldn’t see him, anyway.
They got to the trail, and everybody ran faster. Rafe was still holding Bailey’s hand, and he looked down at her and asked, “All right? Need me to carry you?”
“No,” Bailey said. “I can run.” Her voice didn’t sound like normal, either. It sounded like she was in a tunnel, and she felt like she was in a tunnel, too. Like everything was hollow.
They ran for minutes and minutes, and then Lily stopped running and said, “Rafe. Take off your pack and your shirt.” She’d unclipped the can of spray from her backpack, and she had it in her hand. It didn’t have the plastic piece on it that kept it from spraying anymore, so she’d taken it off like she’d told Rafe not to do unless there was a bear. She handed it to Bailey and said, “I’m going to wrap Rafe’s arm. If the bear comes, spray it in the face. Spray it hard.”
“OK,” Bailey said. She faced back up the trail, the way they’d come. Oh. It had been a bear. A grizzly bear, maybe. Chuck was with her, looking up the trail, so she felt braver. She held the spray can and watched.
Lily was helping Rafe take off his torn shirt, and she was taking off her shirt, too, so she only had on a bra. She wrapped Rafe’s bloody shirt around his arm and tied the sleeves. “That’s as tight as I can get it,” she said. “It might slow the bleeding some.” She took her shirt, then, and wrapped it around his hand, the one on that same arm, and tied that, too.
“Your hand,” Rafe said.
She said, “I’m not hurt.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You are.”
She looked at her hand. “Oh. Well, I’m not hurt as badly as you.” She yanked a water bottle out of the side of her backpack and gave it to him. “Drink that. Shock.”
He didn’t say anything, just drank half of the water and handed it back to Lily, who gave it to Bailey and took the bear spray back. “I’ll watch now,” she said. “Take a drink. We need to run back. Can you run?”
“Yes,” Bailey said, and Lily took the water bottle back and started to run again. In her bra, which had stripes on it like a zebra. Down through the woods the way they’d come.
It took a long time. Bailey kept thinking she heard the bear, but Chuck wasn’t barking, so it must not be coming. They ran all the way down, and then they went through the gate again, and along the other path, on Lily’s land. Not all the way to where her house was. They went around a corner, and the guys were there, the ones who were making the ski trail, with machines and shovels.
Lily ran right up to them in her bra and said, “Get us to somebody’s pickup. Take us to the hospital. Do it now.”
Afterwards, Rafe only remembered snatches of the rest of that trip. Of climbing into the cab of the pickup beside Lily, and Bailey jumping into the bed with Chuck. Of saying, “Thanks, mate,” to the fella who was peeling out of the clearing and bumping down the dirt track. Of keeping his arm around Lily and thinking about Bailey in the back, in the dust, and hoping she was all right.
His arm was on fire, and he didn’t care. Lily was here, and Bailey was here, and they were going to be all right.
The emergency room wasn’t fun, but heaps of things weren’t fun. He could hear Lily in the cubicle next to his, with a sheriff’s deputy, answering questions. He should be helping her do that, but he was stuck on a hard, narrow hospital bed, gritting his teeth despite the shots of lidocaine and the IV, as his wounds were cleaned and stitched.
His left hand wasn’t bad, just a couple wide, bleeding scratches that a few stitches took care of. A swipe of a paw, that was all. His right arm and hand were much worse.
“Well, it didn’t bite you,” the doctor said. Cheerfully, of course. ER doctors were all arseholes. Rafe filed that away in case he ever had to play one. “So there’s that. Sure did scratch the hell out of you, though. Some of these babies are deep. You won’t be playing piano for a while.”
“Yeah,” Rafe said. “I…noticed.” He would have said something about Bailey, but Lily had already done that, too.
“What do you do for a living?” the fella asked. Making conversation during the boring process of stitching up too many wounds, or taking Rafe’s mind off the activity, if that were possible.
“I’m an actor,” Rafe said. He’d have said something else, but he couldn’t be bothered.
“Really.” The endless poking stopped, then started up again. “Stage or screen?”
“Screen.” More fiery tugging and pulling.
